


Letters to No One

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-23
Updated: 2006-02-06
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:57:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Post 513.  Brian writes letters he never intends to send in an effort to cope with the sudden changes in his life.





	1. Letters to No One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: This is my first attempt at a QAF story. Please go easy on me.  


* * *

Chapter One: Letters to No One: In which Brian tries to cope with losing Justin by writing letters that he never intends to send.

Three days after Justin’s departure:

J.

This fucking sucks. I feel so stupid writing this to you when I know that there is no way in hell I would EVER let you read it. Apparently, the nutty professor has decided to take up couples counseling in his spare time. He told me that it would make me feel better to get some of this off my chest. What a load of shit. 

Christ, this hurts. I want to say that if I had known that this is what it feels like to have your heart broken, I would never have picked you up under that street lamp. I want to say that, but I can’t because I would still do it. I swear, I’ve turned into a dyke, but the time I’ve spent with you has been worth even this hell that I am going through now. 

Oh, I know you think you will come back some day, and if the past truly does repeat itself, you probably will. But this will be the longest time you have ever spent away from me. You will be successful. And you will see that you don’t really need me at all even though I know you sometimes think you do. I know you want to be independent and I respect that. I want you to be able to be independent, too, but I still want to take care of you. Do you understand what I mean? 

Fuck, now I am expecting you to answer me. I think I am finally going crazy. This is just a stupid sheet of paper, and I am just doing this because it hurts so bad, and I can’t stop it. 

I know you will meet someone in New York. Face it Sunshine, you were made for a relationship and we have never been very good at the long distance thing. We weren’t even that good at the short distance thing. I don’t blame you for going, or even for moving on without me. I know we talked about my coming to New York with you, but we both know that will never happen. In spite of everything, the Pitts is my home and I am established here, even happy here. Just not happy without you. 

I think Ben is screwed up in the head because this is not making me feel better at all. 

Fuck it.

B.

One week after Justin’s departure:

J.

Mikey came over tonight to try to take my mind off of things. I think I really must be getting old. I was sitting at my laptop in the loft, alone, before midnight. I remember the days when I didn’t even come home before three, but that is over now. I think my life is over now.

You showed me that I didn’t need to live that lifestyle anymore, that I do not have to be that person, that there is more to life than getting my dick sucked. But now you’re not even here to help me find out what else there is. And to top it all off, even Gus is gone. It feels like my “family” has completely deserted me. He will forget about me and so will you. You are not coming back, and I need to face that. He is not coming back and I need to face that, too. I keep seeing you everywhere I look and hearing your voice in my head. It is like you are with me even though I know you aren’t, and so while Mikey tried to help me think about something else, it didn’t work. 

He took me to the ruin that is Babylon and tried to convince me that we should reopen it. The building reminds me of you, just like pretty much everything else. I could see us dancing together under the lights and the falling confetti. I could see us fucking in the backroom. And I didn’t want to ever be there again. There are too many memories. But then Mikey asked me to dance with him, which was so fucking pathetic, but we did it anyway. And for a few moments I could see a future there. I could see it rebuilt, and it would still be the same, but it would be totally different. Maybe I wouldn’t see you everywhere then. In my head I could see the lights and hear the music, but as our friends danced around me with their fucking partners, I was there alone, without my partner.

I think I will rebuild it, after all. Maybe then, I could stop thinking about you all of the time. Except I don’t want to stop thinking about you. I don’t know. I wish you were here to tell me what to do.

B.

Three weeks after Justin’s departure:

J.

I miss you. 

I talked to you on the phone today. It was the second time since you left me. 

You left me. 

When I say that to you in my head it sounds like I am accusing you of doing something deliberately to harm me. I’m sorry. I know that I am the one who sent you away. I was trying to do what is best for you. I am always trying to take care of you and the truth is that I think I suck at it. If you look back, most of the mistakes I have made in our non-relationship have been when I tried to take care of you. I always seem to be trying to get rid of you. I know that you think it is because I am too attached to my stupid lifestyle, but I really have just always felt that you would be so much better off without me. 

Even this time, I want to encourage you in your work. You are unbelievably talented, after all, but I also want to cling to you, hold you, and never, ever, let you go. God, that just sounds so trite. But here again, I’ve gone and pushed you away and let you move to fucking New York. Again, I know you will be better off without me, but maybe I am wrong.

I am always pushing you away. I didn’t visit you in L.A. because I thought you could establish a life without me. I wanted that for you even if you didn’t really want it for yourself. Now I am torn between visiting you and not visiting you and I honestly don’t know what to do. I want to see you and just be with you as much as I want to fuck you (which is a lot, I assure you), but I don’t want to see you because I am afraid that it will be like that last night we were together in the loft. That was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, making love to you for what could be the last time. Christ, I am such a dyke. Feeling that way over and over again every time I come to visit you would be torture, and, even with all of my kinks, Sunshine, I am just not a masochist.

You called me tonight, just to talk, and I wanted to tell you that I miss you, but I didn’t. I just let you talk and talk about all of the things that are going on in the big city. You didn’t sound as happy as you did when you were in L.A. and I feel really bad because I was happy about that. It gave me a little bit of hope where I had none before. But then you jokingly asked if I would come to your first show whenever you make it big, and I didn’t know what to say. That is just not something I am prepared to joke about when you are so far away and I am here. I feel like there is a fucking hole in my chest, it hurts that bad, and I just don’t want to talk about it. Not out loud, and not to the real you, anyway. I don’t know if I can come to see you, even if your first show will not be for several months. I don’t think that the hole will be gone by then. I am not sure that it will ever be gone, and I am not even sure that I really want it to go away. It is my proof that you were ever really mine.

You got angry then, when I didn’t respond. I am sorry. You asked me if I would ever want to see you again, and I wanted to say that I don’t want to see you again. I wanted to push you even further away because maybe then I wouldn’t have to feel this pain. But I couldn’t say that to you. I’ve never lied to you, and I am not about to start now. So I told you the truth, I don’t know. You were really quiet then, and I could almost believe that maybe you felt a fucking hole in your chest, too. Is it wrong that I want you to feel it, too. I think that must be more of my selfishness, but if you did feel that way, then you might come back someday. I don’t know if it is worse for me to want you to come back someday or to want you to stay there forever.

I think I am going insane.

B.

One month, two days after Justin’s departure:

J.

I know I am going insane. You have been gone for over a month now, and I am still writing these stupid letters. If you were here, you would be worried about me. The fucking hole is still here to keep me company, though. I think it might have gotten even bigger. 

Why do I think I am going crazy? Well, Sunshine, let me tell you about the crazy things I have been doing lately. I have conversations with the painting you did that hangs in the living area of the loft. I sit on the couch and talk to it as if it were you. How fucked up is that? But that’s not all. I also spend at least an hour most days just sitting in the backroom of Babylon with my head in my hands. Oddly enough, I don’t think about fucking you then, well, maybe I do sometimes, but it is not all that I think about. Sometimes I think about how nice it was to dance with you and how I liked holding you in my arms. It won’t be open for at least three more weeks, by the way, but the construction is coming along nicely.

Do you want to know what I did with your castle? You asked me to sell it, but I didn’t. I spend two to three nights a week there now. I wander through all of the rooms imagining what it would have looked like if we had gone through with everything. I imagine fucking you in each room, and even making love to you sometimes, like we did in front of the fire on the day that you agreed to marry me. But all of that is not what makes me crazy. Sometimes I see you there and we sit and talk for long periods of time. I talk to you then like I do in these letters, but when I think about it, I know you couldn’t have really been there because I could never say these things to the real you.

I picked up the phone today, to call you, but I couldn’t press the send button. It was like there was a block between my brain and my index finger. I want you to know that I want to talk to you, but I think that in addition to being fucking nuts, I am also a fucking coward. I don’t want to know about the good time you are having on the New York club scene. I don’t want to know about the man that you have found to replace me. Maybe you haven’t found one yet, but you will, and I just don’t want to know about it. I ask all of our friends about you and they tell me you are doing just fine. They are angry about the way I’ve been treating you. They say I’ve broken your heart and that it could all be fixed if I would just go see you, but I know it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t bring you back and I could never stay. You are too good for me, Sunshine. Always have been and always will be. 

I haven’t talked to you in almost two weeks now, and I have to admit that I miss your voice. I know you won’t be calling me anytime soon, so I am going to have to break down and do it. Pride sucks. So does insanity.

B.

Six weeks, two days after Justin’s departure:

J.

I called Mel and Lindz today. I was completely serious when I said that I wanted a second chance to be Gus’ father. You were right. I am not my father and I never will be like him. It is time that I moved past all of that and was actually there for my son. It was amazing to hear his voice on the phone. He hadn’t forgotten me and Lindz assures me that they talk to him about his family everyday. You probably know this already because I am sure you talk to all of them more often than I do. They don’t let stupid things like pride and a lack of self-esteem get in their way.

I talked to you again the other night, and I was so glad to hear your voice. I know you are proud because I actually called you this time. And I admitted that I miss you. I didn’t say I love you though, and I regret that, but if it took me five years to be able to say it to you, there is no fucking way that I am going to say something like that to a cell phone. You’ve been gone for six weeks and two days now and we’ve only spoken to each other three times. You seem to be settling in nicely, and I really am glad, Justin, but I think the fucking hole in my chest has become a little bit bigger. 

I really want to see you, if just to know that that last night we spent together wasn’t the end of us completely. Even if I can’t be with you anymore, I would still like to be a part of your life. Even if it hurts like a motherfucker.

I am planning a trip, though not to New York. Please don’t be disappointed, Sunshine, but I am just not up to it yet. Of course, by the time I finally get around to it, you will have proved me right by finally realizing that I am a sad sack of shit and moving on with someone much more worthy, and, I am sure, much younger than I am. But you haven’t moved on yet. I am sure that that sort of news would have already reached me by now if that were the case. But that is completely beside the point. I was trying to tell you that I have decided to spend a long weekend in Toronto with Gus. I can’t let both of my boys forget about me.

I know, I know. That wasn’t fair. I know that you are not going to forget about me. I know it in the logical part of my brain, but for the most part I am just not logical lately. I think I might even be able to beat Emmett at this year’s Drama Queen awards.

I wonder if there are any good asylums in New York.

B.


	2. New Beginnings on Old Foundations

  
Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. I feel so loved :-)  


* * *

Chapter Two: New Beginnings on Old Foundations: In which Babylon reopens and Brian visits Gus causing a few emotional revelations to occur.

Two months, 5 days after Justin’s departure:

J.

Babylon reopened tonight. I told you about it when you called last week, and I kept hoping that you would hint around about wanting to be here for it, but you didn’t. Tonight, I kept hoping that you would surprise my by showing up unexpectedly, but you didn’t do that either.

The reopening was everything I expected it to be. It was exactly the way I saw it in my head when Mikey dragged me here a week after you left for New York. You might be interested to know that I changed quite a bit of the décor to avoid painful reminders (both for myself and for those that were affected by the bombing). It didn’t really work though, because I added quite a bit of orange lighting, which made me think of sunshine and, by association, you. 

Fucking orange lights.

The partner thing was also a bit of a problem for me. Mikey was with Ben, Theodore was with Blake, and Emmett was with that guy he’s been seeing for the last few months whose name I can’t ever remember. Hell, even the hetero couples turned out in full force: Deb and Carl, Cynthia and her trick du jour, Daphne and her latest, and last but not least, your fucking mother and her adopted boy toy.

I wonder if it can still be classified as a gay club when there are almost as many straight people present as fags. Maybe gay clubs are the latest trend in hetero dating. I’ll have to do some research on it.

But all of that is beside the point. Do you realize that all of our friends and family members are paired up now? When the fuck did that happen? I guess that while I was busy being paired up with you, I was too preoccupied to notice. 

Do you ever think about our relationship that way? Do you compare it to the relationships of the other couples around us? I’ve never done it before, but being by myself gives me the opportunity to observe them, and I’ve had plenty of free time lately to think about it. Too much free time, if you ask me. I’m becoming more pathetic than Mikey.

Even with the on again off again nature of our relationship, we have been together longer than any other couple in our family, with the exception of Lindz and Mel who don’t count because they’re not here. We were also the first to get together. I feel like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone, because there is no fucking way I would have ever even begun to think about any of this in depth if you were around. Of course, I would be too busy fucking you.

So anyway, here I am, back at the loft at the ungodly hour of 1 in the morning when I should be in the backroom fucking my brains out. Why do I keep doing this to myself? You would think that two months would be enough for me to be over it by now, but I’m not over it yet. Maybe I won’t ever be over it, and Mikey will get his wish of us being two old queens together in Palm Springs. 

Save me.

B.

Two months, one week, three days after Justin’s departure:

J.

I landed in Toronto today. Lindz and Gus were there to greet me at the airport. You should have seen him, Sunshine. You would be surprised at how much he has grown. He is tall and lanky like his old man and will be a heartbreaker when he grows up. 

When he saw me, he came running with his arms thrown open. His eyes were wide, and his smile was so big I was worried his face might split in two. I realized in that moment how horribly I have missed him and that I don’t want to wait another two months to see him again. 

I picked him up and hugged him so hard, and he threw his arms around my neck as I lifted him up and held him tight. He giggled in my ear, kissed my cheek, and said, “Daddy, I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”

I felt myself begin to tear up, but I hid it of course. I think Lindz could tell, though, because she just smiled at me, like she knew something I didn’t. I squeezed Gus one more time and then put him down on the floor. I started to say hi to Lindsay, when I noticed that Gus kept looking around for something. His eyes were darting back and forth and he looked as though he expected Santa to come walking around the corner at any moment.

I asked him what he was looking for, and he looked up at me with wide eyes and asked where you were. That was the second shocking realization of the day, that even my son knows more about how I feel about you than I do. He knows that we are a pair, that we belong together, and that something must be wrong if we are apart.

Something must be terribly wrong.

I had to explain to him that you are in New York and that you couldn’t come with me because you were busy. He suddenly began to look a little sad and asked me if we were “avorce.” It took me awhile to understand that he wanted to know if we were divorced, and I had no idea how to respond to that. It felt like he had reached into my stomach with his tiny hand and begun tying my guts into the “bunny ears” that he uses to tie his shoelaces. 

Lindsay saved me by crouching down and telling him that we were still together, but that you had to go to New York to paint while I had to stay home and work in my office. She said that it doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other anymore. That simple explanation designed to clear things up for a five-year-old crystallized everything I have been torturing myself about for the last two months. For the first time, I truly understood that us being separated doesn’t mean the end of us. I still love you even though we are hundreds of miles apart, and that will never change for me. And if I am going to give you the credit you deserve, I need to be able to realize that maybe that will never change for you, too.

Later, Lindz explained that one of Gus’ best friends has parents that are getting divorced, and that Gus has recently taken up marriage counseling in his spare time. We shared a laugh, and acted as though a life changing experience hadn’t occurred. I finally understand that I want to be with you, even if we live in different cities, and I shouldn’t be trying to push you away right now. I should be trying to hold us together.

My five year old understands this. Why has it taken me this long to understand it too?

B.

Two months, one week, four days after Justin’s departure:

J.

Apparently, the grass is not greener on this side of the border after all because there seems to be a bit of trouble in Muncherland. Mel is even angrier than normal because it isn’t as easy to go from practicing American law to practicing in Canada as she thought it would be, Lindsay still hasn’t found a gallery that is hiring, and Gus is still being picked on at school for having two mommies and, get this, two daddies.

That’s right, Sunshine. During family week at school, he drew a picture of himself holding J.R. and standing between two women and two men, one with bright yellow hair and blue dots for eyes. I wanted to call you and tell you about it, but I still haven’t worked out just what I want to say to you about all the emotional shit I’ve been going through in the last few days.

Today, Lindsay and I took the kids to the park just like we used to do at home. We sat on the bench and watched as Gus played with the other children while J.R. napped in her stroller. We played the part of the happy hetero couple, just like we always do, and discussed the problems in our homosexual lives. Well, it was more like the problems in Lindsay’s lesbian life because I wasn’t about to start acting like a dyke, too.

She thinks that she and Mel may have made a mistake in moving away from their problems, and that they should come home. She also thinks that Mel secretly agrees but won’t admit it because of her pride. She wants me to help her figure out a way to convince Mel that they can return to the Pitts without her giving up her pride. She thinks I am the perfect candidate to do this because I am as proud (i.e. stubborn) as Mel is.

I told her that I wouldn’t interfere and that Mel can keep her goddamned pride for all I care, but I was secretly plotting ways to do it. It is my new mission in life to get both of my Sonnyboys back home again, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve that goal. Even if I have to give up a little bit of my own pride to do it.

Now, don’t go thinking that all of these emotional “breakthroughs” were for shit, just yet. I don’t mean right away, of course. I know you need to spend some more time in New York to establish yourself, but I do want you home eventually. And I want Gus home, too. I’ve already missed so much of his life, and I won’t miss anymore of it if I don’t have to. I won’t miss anymore of us than I have to, either. 

Have you noticed that I have been writing a lot more in the last few weeks? Maybe Ben is right, and there is something to this writing thing after all. Don’t tell him I said that, though. His ego is already almost as big as mine, and we can’t have two top dogs in the same family.

B.


	3. Game Plan

Chapter Three: Game Plan: In which Brian comes up with a strategy to get his boys back home.

Two months, two weeks, five days after Justin’s departure:

J.

I’ve been working on it for the last few days, and I think I’ve finally come up with a plan to get Mel and Lindz to move back home. Of course, this plan also includes getting you back here as well. Maybe not on a permanent basis, at least for now, but long enough that I can get up the guts to explain all of these things I’ve been thinking about to your face.

I still feel the fucking hole in my chest, and I am not going to lie and say that it feels like it has gotten smaller. It doesn’t. But I think having this new little project has helped make it less noticeable. I am able to get through the day without feeling depressed all of the time, and I think everyone can tell. Mikey has stopped looking at me as though he is waiting for me to fall apart at any time, and Ted has stopped offering to take over my meetings so I can “get some rest.”

God, I am so sick of them acting like I am fucking incompetent.

But anyway, my plan so far is to lure you all back here by faking a wedding between Deb and Carl. I’m even planning to have some fake invitations made up to make it seem more real. I think that is a believable enough excuse and would be enough to lure all of you back here, but if it isn’t, I am fully prepared to tell you that your mom, being inspired by Deb’s example, has decided to marry her boy toy. That will get you home for sure.

Yes, Sunshine, I am going to intentionally lie to you. I hope you won’t be so angry with me that you won’t listen to what I have to say. But I have to do it here, where I’m comfortable, and where we have a history. Somewhere private. I can’t say any of this to you in some unfamiliar apartment in an unfamiliar city, where you and I together doesn’t exist.

I know this is completely fucked up, but I keep having visions of how this conversation could go. Sometimes, you are happy and okay with the fact that I’ve lied to you because it allowed me to give you the words you’ve always wanted. Other times, you are pissed off and refuse to listen to anything I have to say. I mostly see the happy visions, but I really believe that the whole thing is more likely to go the other way.

Of course, I have total confidence that my plan to get the munchers back in the Pitts with my son will work out. I am just not sure of what I am going to do once I get them here. If what Lindsay says is true, then they should be so miserable that they will be looking for any excuse they can find to come back. That means little to no actual work involved for me, but I would rather over plan than under plan, so I will keep thinking about it. 

It would be nice if I could talk to you about it, in person, but then I would have to give it all away. Maybe I could tell you about half of the plan. It would give us something to talk about and provide a convenient excuse for me to call you. 

Well, I never said I had this whole touchy feely hetero love thing figured out yet. I still need excuses to call you. So what? I only have one ball for Christ’s sake, what did you expect.

B.

Three months, three days after Justin’s departure:

J.

Okay, so I’ve been working on this almost nonstop for the last two weeks and I think I’ve got most of the details worked out. I even called you to warn you about Deb and Carl’s “wedding” and told you about my plan to convince Mel to move back to the States. You thought it was brilliant, of course, and not at all devious, so I have high hopes that you won’t be too angry when you realize you are also part of the plot.

Fortunately for me, the gang all seems to be willing to assist in this little project. So far, I have Deb’s permission to use her as an excuse to lure you back here. I also have your mother’s permission to use her if things don’t work out. Don’t worry, though, I didn’t tell Deb about having a backup plan, so you don’t need to worry about her thinking that you don’t love her enough to come to her wedding. Emmett has worked out the fake invitations, so it will look legit.

Now, once everyone is here, we will begin with more deviant parts of my plan. First, I am going to give the people that rented the Muncher Villa a substantial sum of money to have a family emergency that requires them to leave the house immediately and move far, far away. Then, Ted has agreed to discover some problems in Mel and Lindz’s bank accounts that will ultimately mean that they need a good source of income now. Coincidentally, that is exactly when Mel’s old law firm will give her a call to see how she is doing, while slipping in a few well placed comments about how poorly the firm is doing without her, and how the partner that was assigned to her cases is not really doing what is best for her former clients.

If all of that doesn’t work, I am also prepared to play the part of the total asshole as usual, and cause a fuss about them removing my son from the country. Especially since there are a few clauses in the agreement I signed giving up my rights that could make things a bit uncomfortable for Mel in the event that she wants to remain too stubborn for her own good.

As for the part of the plan that concerns you, I will pick you up from the airport and tell you that we are going home. Then I will take you out to your palace, hopefully scoring some points for sentimentality. If that doesn’t work, then taking you in and showing you how comfortable some of the furnished rooms are and then taking you to our bedroom and explaining that I haven’t decorated it yet because I felt it was something we should do together should work. That night, I plan to show you more romance than you would ever have thought me capable of. I even read half of a romance novel to try to get a good idea of what to do. 

I borrowed the book from Daphne, though, so don’t worry that my dick has shriveled up or anything. I promise it’s still all there. All 9 inches.

So anyway, the next day, after you’ve made the visitation rounds and we’ve visited Babylon, we will sleep at the loft. Hopefully this will score some more sentimentality points, and will remind you of all the things you have been missing since you left. We can fuck in the bed where we did it the first time and the second first time and many of the other times after that.

Then, in the morning, I will bring you breakfast before I explain to you that I’ve lied to you, and then tell you most of what I have been writing in these letters: That I love you, and want you in my life, however I can have you, and that I understand now that this doesn’t have to be the end.

At that point, I think you will stare at me in disbelief for a few minutes, laugh cynically, grab your return ticket, and leave me again without saying a word. I am only hoping that what I have to say will leave enough of an impression that when I come to see you in New York a few days later, you will talk to me, this time on your own turf and terms, and we can work something out.

So that is the plan. It will all begin in less than a month, but I think this is going to be the longest month of my life. I’m always planning these elaborate schemes, but I’ve never had this much at stake before. Hopefully it will all work out. I’ve never really been short on self-confidence, but when it comes to you, I seem to have less than I normally do.

B.


End file.
